


Of Rum and Red Wine

by EnigmaOfShipwreckIsland



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:40:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25447006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnigmaOfShipwreckIsland/pseuds/EnigmaOfShipwreckIsland
Summary: After the Battle for Shipwreck Island, Captain Barbossa has an urgent repair to take care of.
Relationships: Hector Barbossa/Jack Sparrow
Comments: 4
Kudos: 95





	Of Rum and Red Wine

**Author's Note:**

> Truthfully, I wrote this years ago. It was going to be part of a one-shot collection for ff.net, but I have yet to think of any additional scenes for them, so this has been sitting in my documents folder waiting to either be shared or deleted. 
> 
> I'm having an off day and feel like posting something, and this was ready to go.

Despite the few hours of sunlight left in the day, the center of Shipwreck Island was already dark. While the outer shell of the island did provide an excellent natural barrier against would-be invaders, its shadow also blocked both rising and setting sunlight, creating artificially shorter days. The air was always naturally cooler from the entrance of the Devil’s Throat straight down to the City itself.

This evening, there was also a buzz of excitement that was carried in from the sea just outside the outer walls. The Brethren Court successfully drove away the East India Trading Company and the British Royal Navy. The Flying Dutchman was also won, and the Pirate Lords didn’t even lose a ship.

Captain Hector Barbossa’s eyes drifted from the city ahead, full of lights and laughter so loud the sound echoed all around, to the Black Pearl. While she was in (somewhat) decent shape after going against the Flying Dutchman in a maelstrom and blow-back from blasting the Endeavor out of the water, she would need repairs. He sighed, once again recalculating both the money and time for the needed repairs. He looked up at the helm and sighed again.

Captain Jack Sparrow stood at the helm, unusually quiet. The passage through the Devil’s Throat required most of his attention and his orders became shockingly short and straight to the point, resembling his father so much that any lingers doubts about that fact were surely shot down. The night before, however, he was back to his normal talkative self even before the Pearl’s stern cleared the Throat. This time, he was still focused, biting his lip as he turned the huge heavy wheel.

_‘Another repair,’_ Barbossa thought, watching Jack. He knew almost as soon as Jack was fished out of the water that his shoulder was messed up. No man can fly through the air by holding onto a sail with a woman hanging onto him, both soaked to the bone, without messing something up. Before the Black Pearl entered the Devil’s Throat, Captain Barbossa did offer to man the helm through the passage.

Surprisingly, Captain Sparrow’s response was simply “Like hell I’d let you sail the Throat.” His voice was unusually quiet and cold, as if he were trying to mask his pain.

So, Captain Barbossa busied himself checking on both ship damage and crew injuries with Mr. Gibbs, all while keeping an eye on Jack. Unlike him, Sparrow had been involved in the fight against Davy Jones himself. Surprisingly, Jack Sparrow actually spent the majority of the battle against Jones, meaning there were probably more injuries besides the shoulder. He was a little awestruck that Jack was still even standing at this point.

Suddenly, Jack gestured for Mr. Cotton to take the helm. Captain Sparrow patted the helmsman on the shoulder before quietly walking down the steps and straight into the captains’ cabin. As soon as the door closed, Jack the Monkey swung onto Barbossa’s shoulder. The monkey was still soaked, so Captain Barbossa grabbed a semi dry looking piece of fabric and wrapped him in it as he put the monkey on a barrel. So what if he was undead? That was still his child. “Stay ‘ere.”

The inside of the cabin was a wreck. Of course, after the kraken and escaping the Locker, the captains’ cabin wasn’t exactly neat or organized, but it had been a sort of controlled chaos for a few days. Now, all of the furniture had been tossed about the room. There were new holes in the walls. Soaked papered littered the floor, dark ink running in streaks. There was a lantern lit on the floor.

Captain Jack Sparrow pulled a chair up with his right hand. He turned and forced a smile. “You’ve made a bloody mess of my cabin, mate,” he said as he gestured toward the table.

“Ne’er mind that,” Captain Barbossa said as he crossed the space between them. He picked up a chair and placed it across from Jack’s. He took off his jacket, gave it a hard shake, and hung it from the back of his chair with his hat. “That shoulder’s not goin’ to fix itself.”

“Then get Mr. Gibbs,” Jack replied as he struggled to slowly fight off his own jacket. Barbossa rolled his eyes, using his boot to pop open a floor board. Inside was a small compartment containing a small chest and a few bottles. He pulled out two bottles and the chest.

“Why when I am not doin’ anything?”

Jack paused, his left arm still in his jacket. “Alright fine. Get me out of this.”

Hector picked up another chair for his supplies, then stood directly in front of Jack. “Yer a fool for that stunt.”

“But it worked,” Jack countered with a smirk. He sounded more like himself, though he was still obviously in pain. He felt the fabric slide as his co-captain slowly took his jacket off for him. “Just like old times.”

“Aye. I suppose me cleanin’ your mess is nothin’ new,” Barbossa snapped, shaking Sparrow’s jacket. It felt much heavier than he expected. He put it on the back of Jack’s chair. Then he took Jack's hat and hung it with the jacket. He waved toward the chair. “Sit.”

Using his good hand, Jack lifted the lantern onto the extra chair. “You’re the one that released Calypso.”

“Yer the cur what brought Beckett and Jones,” Barbossa said as he pushed Jack into the chair with his good shoulder.

Jack quietly watched as Hector examined his other shoulder. “And you know I didn’t mean you fixing my shoulder.”

The older man paused for a second, rolling his eyes again. Of course Jack would go there. “I know what you meant.” He sighed, looking at the floor again. There was so much stuff spread everywhere. There were even a few broken bottles, meaning there was likely glass under the layer of papers. He frowned, looking back at Jack. “Rum’s on the chair. Yer gonna need it.”

Captain Jack Sparrow did not need to be told twice. He grabbed the bottle before the older man even finished the second sentence. He pulled the cork out with his teeth and took a good long swing. “How long’s that been there?”

“Before,” Barbossa replied simply as he sat on the chair his jacket hung from, one of his knees between Jack’s. They both knew what he meant: before the mutiny. That had been an obviously sticky topic. Everything before that betrayal had a bitter-sweetness to it. “Ya never found it?”

Jack shook his head, watching Hector opened the chest and took out various, some vaguely intimidating, objects out. He decided not to question what looked curiously like a toe in a sealed jar of amber liquid. “Never thought to look.”

They were silent as Barbossa searched through the chest and Sparrow drank. This was not their first time in this sort of scenario. Back when Hector was Jack’s first mate, they would often end up in the cabin alone after Sparrow managed to get himself injured doing something stupid. There were also many more nights out at sea that ended with them alone in the cabin with far too much rum and red wine….

That seemed like a lifetime ago. There was a tenseness between them that didn’t exist before.

Finally, Hector pulled out a folded strip of very faded black fabric and what was obviously a piece of an old leather belt. He handed the leather to Jack. “You know.”

“I know,” Jack replied, but then took a minute to look at the leather. One edge still had dried blood, the other was frayed where it was sawed apart, and there were still evenly spaced holes. There were also teeth impressions still barely visible. Jack traced his fingers on the teeth marks, running his tongue along his teeth to compare. “Not sure if I’m flattered or-“

Barbossa took the leather back and shoved it in Sparrow’s mouth. Before Jack had a chance to react, the older man then grabbed his left elbow and gave it a sharp shove upward. There was a soft, crackled-pop sound, followed immediately by a muffled cry of pain. He handed Jack the rum. “Drink.”

Captain Sparrow waited until his co-captain reached over for the bottle of red wine before spitting out the leather. He swung his head back as he drank deeply, hoping the few tears that had begun to form in his eyes might go back. When they didn’t, he wiped his eyes with his right arm, hoping Hector wouldn’t see.

Captain Barbossa noticed out of the corner of his eyes, of course, but pretended not to as he drank the wine. He then took the fabric and shook it out. He then turned to face Jack, reaching to pull the younger man forward. Without a word, he wrapped the fabric under Jack’s left forearm then started tying it behind his neck.

At first, it was awkward for Captain Sparrow to have his forehead pressed against his former first mate’s shoulder again after the mutiny. A familiar scent of musky sweat and the juice from the apple Barbossa had somehow found time to eat recently filled the warm air between them. It reminded Jack of the good times before the mutiny, when there was no tension between them. When they’d spend most of the sunny days offhandedly teasing each other on deck. When they spent nights in this very cabin, “talking” until the starry skies faded to soft violets and pinks. When having Hector’s arms around him was a comfort…

“That ought’a do it,” Hector stated, finishing the knot. He started to sit up, but stopped when he realized Jack was about to fall. He caught his co-captain and watched him for a moment. Then he sighed, leaning forward again to let the sleeping man’s head rest against his right shoulder. Hector Barbossa did feel some pity for Jack Sparrow. Just looking at him, he knew that the last thirteen or so years had not been easy for him. This close, Hector could see the gray hair that mixed into the dark mane Jack was so proud of. The inner edge of his red scarf was much brighter than the outside. He was still soaked from the storm earlier that day. Barbossa rested his head Sparrow’s right shoulder, listening to his breathing.

Captain Barbossa almost felt sorry for the other mutiny that was very quietly underway at that very moment. _Almost._

* * *

“Captains, we’re ready for…,” Mr. Gibbs started as he walked in. He stopped as soon as he saw both captains sleeping against each other….


End file.
